Up on the Rooftop
by BotulismFreak
Summary: Durzo's bored. So bored he took on a noob mission in order to alleviate some of the monotony of his day. But what happens when she appears? Note: This story takes place decades before Kylar's born.  Part of a collection involving my dear friend, Belva Dea


Up on the Rooftop

Durzo Blint scanned the street below for his deader. Gods, he hated these types of jobs. Duke what's-his-face insulted so-and-so, and now Lord so-and-so wanted revenge. Such petty jobs were normally beneath him, but Durzo was fed up with sitting around. Nothing big had come along for a month, leaving the wetboy with an unplanned vacation. He'd even tired of slumming at Momma K's new brothels. At least this small-time contract was something to do.

Crap, was this ditzy Duke every going to show? Durzo shifted slightly on his rooftop perch, trying to get a better view of brothel's entrance across the street. Maybe he had missed him? The wetboy leaned over the roof's edge, making sure he kept to the shadows. The ka kari might make him invisible, but one could never be to careful.

His eyes swept the street again, finally locating the Duke. The idiot was trying to be discreet, but his black cloak was made of too fine a cloth to blend in with the shopkeepers and peasants around him. He passed in front of the whorehouse, dramatically looking left and right before entering. Wow, epic fail in the sneak department.

Durzo settled back farther from the roof's edge, preparing for a long wait. The Duke was a creature of habit. After his little frolic with the "ladies," he would take the same route back to his mansion. Lucky for Durzo, that path cut straight through the wharves, giving him several opportunities to get the job done. All he had to do was wait.

He sighed, flipping out a knife and twirling it between his fingers. More boredom. Was it too much to ask for a little entertainment? He frowned. Why was his life so goddamn predictable? It's no better than the life of that stupid Duke. Kill a deader, putter about in his lab, train. Whenever he did go whoring, it was a disappointment. The girls just laid down and waited until he was finished. What he needed was a good, down dirty, fight…a challenge that would really heat his blood. Now, if only he could find a woman like that. He'd never need a brothel again.

Suddenly, a dagger whistled by, slicing a faint line down the side of his left cheek. Durzo snapped to attention, his twirling dagger held fast in his hand as he turned to face his unexpected attacker. Shit. He was getting sloppy in his boredom. Normally he'd never let anyone get close enough to chance such an easy shot. His lip curled in self-disgust. Sloppy indeed. Such things usually leaded to an early death in his line of work.

Blint settled into a fighting stance, whipping the dagger before him. He absentmindedly touched his other hand to his cheek. It came back bloody. His anger rising, Durzo assessed his opponent. Roughly his height, the other wetboy possessed a surprisingly slim build. Actually, the man was so lean that his wetboy grays practically hung off his frame at the shoulders. Damn. Really? Honestly, Durzo knew he wasn't the buffest dude in the business, but his lightly muscled physique was gargantuan compared to this guy.

"So, it appears I have company," he smirked, "Sorry, but I'm a terrible host. I wasn't planning on entertaining this evening." His jest was answered with bell-like laughter…almost like a woman's…wait. No fucking way. He was not just caught "dick in hand" by a woman. Especially not the little tart that used to be his enemy's apprentice. Durzo studied his opponent again, his realization bringing new details to light. What he thought were ill-fitting clothes for a man were actually tailored, the seams slightly hugging the woman's curves while still allowing a full range of movement. Her gender also explained her build. A woman could build muscle, but it was always lean, never broad like a man. Only one woman was in the wetboy business, the previous apprentice of Bruiser. Belva Dea.

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Now he had to fight her.

"Oh no, it is I who is at fault. I dropped by without an invitation," Belva giggled, producing twin short swords. "However, I'm afraid the Duke is my deader." She tilted her head slightly, causing her cloak's hood to slide off. Durzo had to stop himself from gawking. Though he knew she was a woman, he wasn't expecting her to possess the looks of a courtesan. Gods he almost moaned when the moonlight shined off her long, chestnut tresses, highlighting her slightly Amazonian features. If only he could…

Stop! Goddamn it! This is no time for distractions! Especially of the bedroom variety! Shaking his head, Durzo stepped forward; ready to attack.

"Sorry babe, but the Duke's mine."

"Aw, is the big, bad wetboy not going to share?" she cooed. "Didn't your mother teach you that sharing is caring?" Belva approached, circling Durzo like a wolf on the hunt. She liked what she saw. Though smaller in stature than most men, Blint was lean. His martial arts body promised endless endurance that would keep a woman satisfied many a night. His face wasn't bad to boot. The handful of faint pox scars on his face actually accentuated his jaw, and his gray eyes seemed to glow silver in the darkness. Woah. She should not be thinking this right now. Dea had definitely been too long without a man. She'd have to fix that after this mission. Gathering her resolve she jumped, bringing her blades down in a deadly arc.

Durzo hissed a curse, bringing his dagger up to block. He caught one of her swords on his blade, the other nicking his arm while he spun away. Crap. Still sloppy. He unsheathed another dagger, taking an offensive stance. He wouldn't be distracted by his hormones any longer dammit. Even if the woman had the sexiest figure he'd ever seen. Wait. No. Don't think about that. She's trying to kill you, you fucking retard! Focus! Blint shook his head, trying to regain control of himself. Gods, what was wrong with him? This stuff shouldn't be on his mind while he was in a fight.

Belva couldn't help but smile when she saw Durzo shake his head, lust and confusion written plainly across his features. Delightful. She wondered if she could mess with him some more. Her smile split into an evil grin as several ideas ran through her mind. Oh yeah. She was going to have some fun tonight! Time to kick it up a notch.

Blint scowled as he saw Belva's lips slide into a devilish smirk. What was the damn woman planning now? Something evil for sure. Durzo sprung into action before she could do anything, feinting a low strike then moving upwards at the last second. Dea bent backwards, lashing out with one of her short swords. He threw himself backwards as her second sword came down. The sound of ripping fabric cut through the air. Durzo stood, his shirt falling to rags about his waist.

"If you wanted me to strip, you just had to ask," he husked, sauntering over towards her. "After all, it wouldn't be a hardship." Belva resisted the urge to run one of her hands down the wetboy's chest. Gods be damned. The man had the best Pecs and abs she'd ever seen. There were even a couple of silver scars criss-crossing some areas, making him ooze testosterone on a level that only bad boys could achieve. She playfully butted the tip of her sword against his chest, then used the flat of it to raise Durzo's chin; focusing his steely gaze on her eyes.

"If I'd asked, it wouldn't have been as much fun," she whispered, closing the distance between them until her lips were hovering just above his. Durzo sucked in a breath, biting back a moan. What was with this woman? First, she wants to kill him, and now she wants to fuck him? What the hell? Well, it's not like he was going to complain about the newest development, but really?

Belva was pissed. Screw the mission. She was going to have her way with this man, whether or not he wanted to. Though, judging by his expression, she wasn't going to come close to "forcing" her affection upon him. Belva brought her knee up, forcing him to fall backwards onto the roof, his daggers clattering down the terracotta tiles. She landed on top of him, straddling his stomach while still holding a blade to his neck. Oh yeah. Things were starting to get good. Dea shifted slightly, coming into contact with a large bulge in Durzo's pants. The wetboy gasped. He most certainly was a willing participant. Her eyes smoldering, she leaned forward, capturing Durzo's lips in a kiss that would burn Satan himself.

Durzo couldn't hold back any longer. Fisting a hand in Belva's long tresses, he pulled her closer; taking charge of the kiss while he knocked the blades from her hands. They went flying, landing somewhere on the roof with a loud clang. His hand then snaked around her waist, pulling her core against his throbbing desire. She arched her back slightly, rubbing against him while mewling softly.

Breaking off from the kiss, Belva licked a path along his jaw, pausing to nip his chin before continuing down his neck. Durzo groaned, throwing his head back in ecstasy and allowing the woman more access for her delicious torments. Still she moved onwards, licking and biting a path down his torso, tracing the outline of his abs with her tongue. All the while, her hands roamed, coming to rest on his groin. She rubbed him through his pants, making him so hard it hurt. He winced as the laces of his trousers bit into his erection. Gods it was sweet, sweet hell. Her hand busy, Belva retraced her previous path, seizing Durzo's mouth once more. More ruthless than a Viking, she plundered his mouth. His concentration broke, causing the ka kari's cloak of invisibility to shatter.

"We…can't…here…" Durzo panted.

"What?" Belva breathed.

"I can't shield us with the ka kari anymore. I can't concentrate. We have to move."

"You mean…eek!" Belva squeaked as Durzo picked her up in his arms and leapt off the side of the roof. He grabbed the roof's edge with one hand, kicking open a window and swinging through. Belva hardly had time to survey her surroundings before she was tossed onto a large bed. Durzo landed on top of her in a missionary position, laying expertly between her thighs.

"Where are we?" Belva gasped.

"Hotel room."

This woman was driving him mad. First, she attacks him. Then she molests him…well…it wasn't really molestation if he was enjoying it, but still. He didn't appreciate being at her mercy. Durzo was the man dammit. He should be on top. Not the other way around.

"You, are wearing too much clothing," he grumbled, deftly pulling off her cloak and shirt. He frowned as he discovered cloth bandages wrapped around her chest. "What the.."

"Never seen a bound chest before?" she laughed, looking at Durzo's scowl.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Seriously. Why hide the cleavage?

"They get in my way on missions. You don't have to worry about boobs hitting you in the face when you run. I do."

Ignoring her complaints, Durzo ripped the offending fabric from her chest, revealing quite a decent sized bosom. Nice. He trailed his hand across their peaks, cupping her gently as he kissed her blind. She arched in response, trails of fire following Durzo's hands wherever they went. Liquid heat pooled between her legs as she shamelessly wrapped them around his waist. They both groaned on contact, Durzo skillfully rubbing against her.

Spurred on by her moans of pleasure, Durzo ghosted kisses down her neck; stopping to pay special attention to her chest. She urged him on, scoring her nails down his back. He hissed in response, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. Durzo couldn't wait any longer. Shucking off her pants and boots, he returned to her lips; assaulting her mouth anew as he carefully touched her core. Belva threw her head back, moaning in utter bliss as Durzo masterfully dipped a finger inside the center of her being.

Gods she was so wet and tight. It almost made him mad. Nipping her lips playfully, Durzo massaged her sensitive bud as he inserted another finger, causing her to buck against his hand. Belva gazed up at him, her hazy eyes suddenly sharp.

Tired of being manhandled, Belva deftly flipped Durzo over, landing on top. Before he could retaliate, she peeled off his pants, his erection spilling into her hand. He groaned, biting his lip while gripping onto the comforter for dear life. Gods this woman was amazing. Maybe being on bottom wasn't so bad after all.

Belva absentmindedly stroked his shaft as she helped him kick off the last of his clothing. Finally finished with disrobing the wetboy, Belva focused on the task at hand, mercilessly torturing Durzo with feather-light caresses on his burning manhood. He groaned, squirming deliciously beneath her and rocking into her hand. Ah, he was ready.

Faster than a messenger boy, Belva impaled herself upon Durzo's sword. She moaned, filled to capacity with his velvety hard length. Gods he was big. Shocked beyond belief, Durzo gripped her waist, offering her some support. Bracing her hands on his chest, Belva rocked forward, stroking him from hilt to tip. They moaned in unison.

Desperate for relief, Belva picked up the pace, her frustration growing with every caress. She couldn't get a good purchase on the fucking fluffy bed to get the angle she wanted. Sensing her growing ire, Durzo sat up, spinning so that Belva was on his lap, her back against the headboard. He pinned her against the mahogany plank, fiercely kissing her as he spread her legs wider. Blint rolled onto his knees, then thrust his hips, delivering a penetrating stroke. Belva moaned in utter bliss. That was what she wanted. Gods it was heavenly. Clutching his shoulders, Belva urged him on, meeting him stroke for stroke; each caress bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Finally she came, screaming as she dug her nails into the wetboy's shoulders as her walls tightened around Durzo's thick rod. It drove him over the edge. With one final thrust he spilt inside her, fire roaring through his veins as he reached nirvana. Spent at last, the two assassins collapsed into a sweaty heap, falling into the depths of slumber.

Durzo awoke soon afterwards. As he rolled over to stretch, he found both his arms and legs bound together with a fine, silk rope. That fucking bitch! He was going to kill her! No one hog ties Durzo Blint and gets away with it! Spitting curses that would make even a sailor blush, Durzo squirmed his way to the edge of the bed, spotting a note on the bedside table.

_Thanks for the lay. It was great. Killed the Duke._

_ -BD_

She'd taken his deader as well. Fuck.


End file.
